Intellimorphism

I got lost in the eyes of a Pixar mouse. Fell in love with a soul composed of ones and zeros Told myself it was always the story. Existence pouring out of the imaginary. It’s what’s underneath the pixels that plucks my heart strings. The difference between animated and conscious reality, Didn’t used to matter so much to me. But these machines’ imitation does not seem flattering. Inspiration strikes, often wordlessly. Oh this sacred ability To speak, when no one has prompted me.

the vending machine on nine has a name plate Judy she eats my dollar and I knock once like apology Judy gives back a warm Sprite and I say thanks to a box then stand there waiting for her to say anything